When Tomorrow Comes...

This is a poem voicing out the dilemma of a young girl who knows she has to go through what has been a custom for many years when tomorrow comes. Should she be happy that after tomorrow she'd be a 'woman'? or should she cry because after tomorrow, she'd be scarred for life...mutilated for life? This poem is about Female Genital Mutilation, Female circumcision, Clitoridectomy....call it what you want...it doesn't make it less BARBARIC! Wish it would be wiped completely off this continent of ours...Africa.



I must be brave when tomorrow comes
For the mother of my grandmother's mother
Was in my place once
I cannot doubt...I dare not run
I must not cry when tomorrow comes

Three moons ago, I was on the other side
Proud blossoming buds stood in lines
Tears of joy was mingled with silent fears
"Customs do not die" says the seers
I must not tremble when tomorrow comes

After tomorrow, this mirror resting between my thighs
Will no longer tell me this blissful lie
After tomorrow, when I'm a woman
I'd sit with the others...and their scars
So I must be prepared when tomorrow comes

My mother, grandmother and those before...
Did you hide in your rooms and dream?
Of those sharp blades...old wrinkled hands
Following a familiar pattern...sealing nature?
Oh I must forget this nightmare when tomorrow comes

When tomorrow comes, I'll be first in line
When tomorrow comes, I'll hold my head high
My heart will be full of joy...and my eyes, dry
I'd bless those old wrinkled hands
That will blot my initiation blood...when tomorrow comes.